The card was Lady Mount-Rhyswicke's. Underneath the name was written:
If you are there will you give me a few minutes? I am waiting in a cab
at the next corner by the fountain.
Mellin's hand shook as he read. He did not doubt that she came as an
emissary; probably they meant to hound him for payment of the note
he had given Sneyd, and at that thought he could have shrieked with
hysterical laughter.
"Do you speak English?" he asked.
"Spik little. Yes."
"Who gave you this card?"
"Coachman," said the boy. "He wait risposta."
"Tell him to say that I shall be there in five minutes."
"Fi' minute. Yes. Good-by."
Mellin was partly dressed--he had risen half an hour earlier and
had been distractedly pacing the floor when the page knocked--and he
completed his toilet quickly. He passed down the corridors, descended by
the stairway (feeling that to use the elevator would be another abuse of
the confidence of the hotel company) and slunk across the lobby with the
look and the sensations of a tramp who knows that he will be kicked into
the street if anybody catches sight of him.
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